Tone Deaf
by rogue empress
Summary: The Phantom gets a new student after Christine leaves the opera house. But Tzipporah is definitley NOT what he bargained for.
1. It starts

This is a fic I'm writing with my cousin Chelsea, who is another freaky genius like me. yeah i'm not modest. whoo freaky! And when you put two warped psyches together, you get weird stuff like this. We think it's hilarious, and if you don't, that's cool, but we'll still laugh our asses off writing it. oops i said ass. Anyways, The Phantom of the Opera and its characters obviously don't belong to us, but Tzipporah does. It's still a work in progress, so any CC (that's constructive criticism) will be greatly appreciated. GIMME CC!NOW!AAAH! (_passes out_)

p.s. If anyone figures out the significance of her stepdad's name, i'll give you a cookie. not that you need the cookie bribe -you just want to show off how smart you are, but i thought i'd throw that in there. you know you wanna be a smarty! SMARTY!

(_clears throat_)

Meanwhile, Tzipporah is pondering Sarah Brightman.

_

* * *

_

_God, how can a person's voice be THAT good? It's not cool. Not fair. She should die. Ok, maybe I'm a little jealous, but still. Seriously. It's not cool._ Tzipporah sat in the now deserted library, listening to the Broadway recording of The Phantom of the Opera. Most normal kids would have chosen to go outside to wait for their rides - you know - sunlight, social interaction, crap like that - but not Tzipporah. She preferred not to go outside, where she knew she would get teased and taunted and tripped by the other kids. Social interaction didn't agree with her. It was tough being one of the only girls in her class who appreciated classical music. Not only that, Tzipporah was only about five feet tall. Let's just say she didn't exactly stand out. Even though she didn't, in fact, stand out, somehow all of the bullies seemed to be able to hone her out of a crowd. They all had like Tzipporah radars or something. Their favorite past time happened to be the thrill of the hunt... of Tzipporah. And when they had her cornered, they were on her like a pack of dogs on a three legged cat. Face it, she didn't have a chance. They were such fans of the Tzipporah-hunt, that the poor girl had already received: a broken walkman, twelve broken copies of The Phantom of the Opera soundtrack, four bloody lips, and a chunk of her hair pulled out by the root, already this year.

It was only the third week.

She had taken refuge in the library and prayed they would not seek her out. The library became like her sanctuary. Home wasn't exactly a safe place either.

Ever since her father left, Tzipporah's mother had gone through about twenty different boyfriends, each decreasing in decency. For whatever reason, she settled down with the one of the worst men on the face of the planet. Waels Leaht. The man was about eight feet tall, was built like a logger, and Tzipporah swore he had sprung from the devil. Sure, he was an angel around Tzipporah's mother, but whenever Tzipporah was alone with him, the demon within emerged.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when she looked out the window and noticed her bus was leaving. Tzipporah spat out an obscenity, and ran after it to the beat of "Track Down This Murderer." The irony in her life was astonishing at times. As she neared the bus, her schoolmates waved, and some threw themselves against the windows. Tzipporah flipped them off and gave up. She walked home.

As she staggered through the door she came to the horrifying realization that her mother's shoes were not on the mat. To most teens this would have been a cause for celebration. (Come on, who doesn't instantly think 'house party!' when mom isn't home?). But for Tzipporah this meant quite the opposite of a party. This was, in a word, bad.

For a split second, she thought, _Maybe he didn't hear me come in, maybe I can go back outside..._

No such luck. His voice traveled through the kitchen.

"Zipp? Come here, little lady."

His voice was hauntingly courteous. It sent chills of horror up her spine. She bristled with anticipation, as she heard his footsteps come down the hall. Tzipporah tried to run, but found her feet were stunned with fright, as though they had been turned to stone by the sight of Medusa.

"I said, come here." He hissed, grabbing her by the neck and throwing her down the hall. She remained still, knowing that if she ran it would only mean a longer, harsher beating. Tzipporah shut her eyes as she heard him pick his belt up off the dresser.

He left her passed out on the floor.

When she came to, she pulled herself up, and tried to stand. As she did this, every muscle in her back screamed. She ignored it and shuffled down the hallway to her room. This was all part of the routine.

Tzipporah's room was small and crowded by her most valuable possession...her stereo. She had the works - subwoofers and all. The walls were covered in production posters from Broadway shows. Most of them were there to cover cracks. She walked over to the stereo and turned it on. "Music of the Night" floated through her room.

She fell onto her bed and closed her eyes, retreating to her ever-familiar fantasy of singing on stage at the Opera Populaire, with the Phantom watching from box five. Her fingers started to tingle as the music overpowered her. She took a deep breath and whispered, "If just this once it was real..."

She woke to a woman's voice. "Who dressed this wretch?" Now that was not nice of her mother to say.

"Wretch?" She yelled, sitting up. Then her eyes got huge. "Who the fuck are you?"

The woman looked at her in horror, her mouth agape, then scurried off in a huff. Tzipporah made a face at her bustle. Who wore bustles? She looked down at the cobblestone street she was sitting on. A carriage almost ran over her. The driver swore at her in french. She stood up and shouted, "UP YOURS, JACKASS!" She got more horrified looks from the people on the street. They were all wearing bustles and top hats. What was this, a renaissance fair?

She turned around. Tzipporah stood in the shadow of the Opera Populaire. She plopped down on the cobblestone again, gaping.


	2. chapter 2

She couldn't believe it! This was sooooooo freaky! She stood up and in an almost trance-like state walked closer to the Opera house. As she did this a man in a cape waltzed over to her and without warning pulled her into a dark ally way. "Let me go!" she screamed. The man ignored her and hoisted her over his shoulder and marched under the Opera house. Tzipporah fought like a wild animal; she bit and clawed at him, but made no progress. Then, as she began to recognize the dark tunnel, she grew quiet. This was the exact maze that led to the Phantom's lair. The strange man dropped her roughly into a boat and then addressed her for the first time.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"Tzipporah" she answered, her voice barely a whisper.

The man then pulled down the hood of his cape. Tzipporah's eyes grew wide with shock as none other than the Phantom sat across from her.

"How did you get here?" he growled.

Tzipporah was silent._ Even as a growl his voice still flows, _she thought dreamily. "I don't know," she replied; her own voice quivered in confusion.

"Get out." The Phantom ordered as the boat struck the opening to a lair lit by a multitude of candles. Tzipporah fell out of the boat and sat on the damp floor, totally freaked out by her experience. The Phantom's cold eyes stared at her as though trying to read her mind. "I know why you're here." He spoke at last, sounding calmer then when he had first spoken. She just looked at him aimlessly, her mouth open in shock that she wasn't dreaming. "My music has finally found one worthy of my teaching. You must have an extraordinary voice, for it has been a long time since someone has been brought to me." He explained, looking down at her with a look of interest.

"Hold up here. I was brought back in time by your music! Man this is wacked! How can I and you and this and here . . . " Tzipporah then fainted. The Phantom stared down at her now lifeless body and rolled his eyes.

Tzipporah awoke in a swan-shaped bed. She looked around and immediately threw the covers off and leapt from the bed. "What the freak?" She lost her footing on the damp floor and crashed into the bedside table. The monkey music box fell over and started to play. "Oh, snap." She said, picking the thing up. "This is the actual haunted music box . . . "

"Whom are you calling haunted?"

Tzipporah screamed and threw the music box against the mirror. The phantom cleared his throat behind her. She looked at him blankly for a moment before she began spitting out an entanglement of apologies.

"I didn't mean... it started to... that bed is.. if I . . . did . . . uh. Did you see anything?"

The phantom stared at her.

"Ok, so I see you're a fan of the blank stare. Me too! I can play that game all day! Ready, go!"

Tzipporah opened her eyes really wide. The phantom blinked.

"HA! I WIN!"

The phantom frowned at her. "Where did you say you were from?"

"Well, do you want the time or the place?"

"Both will suffice."

"I'm from the proud country of the United States of America, year 2005. WE have electricity, AND indoor plumbing. Great stuff. You should stick around for it."

"And, do you live in an institution there?"

"Very funny. Why don't you give me a tour of the opera?"

"I'll make the orders around here."

"Aye cap̀n." She saluted him.

He reached to the chair and handed her a long black dress. "Here, put this on."

"Freaky. Please tell me this was not previously worn."

"It's new."

"Good. Why aren't you dressing me in white like Christine? She was your 'student' too, wasn't she?"

"No." He said flatly.

"What? I thought you had a thing for her. She ran off with that blond kid. Rich jerk? Remember?"

"Just put that on. Girls don't wear pants around here."

"Yeah yeah." She took the dress from him, and stood there. "Are you gonna watch?"

He left.

Tzipporah emerged with her dress half done. She went to the Phantom and put her back to him. "Zip." She ordered. He stared at her like she was insane. "Oh come on, it's not that hard. Just take the little tab and pull up." He still stared at her. "Get over yourself and just do it!"

He very carefully took the very end of the zipper, careful not to make any contact with her. He noticed her slash wounds, but didn't think anything unusual about a black girl having scars like that on her back. The phantom zipped her, then tried to hide a sigh of relief.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it? God."

"Now can we PLEASE get to singing!" he asked, trying to cover his embarrassment over zipping up her dress.

"Sir yes sir! I am ready to sing!" she said once again saluting him.

The Phantom let out a sigh of annoyance "Ok, let's hear your scale." he ordered

Tzipporah tried to hide her nervousness and prayed that whatever came from her mouth sounded at least slightly musical.

Unfortunately, it didn't.

Her teacher's eye twitched when she finished. He coughed.

"I have no words to describe what I have just heard. Something tells me that you aren't familiar with SINGING. What you know how to do is merely a form of shouting. Do you have any relation to Carlotta?"

She stared at him, then took up a haughty nature. "I have _never_ been so insulted in my LIFE!" She spun on her heals and left the room.

The phantom rested his forehead in his hand. "Why," he groaned. He shook his fist at the ceiling. "Why have you brought me another Carlotta! WHY?"

Tzipporah walked back into the room. "What are you trippin' off now?"

"Tripping?" The phantom looked at her, bewildered. "I'm not even standing."

Tzipporah rolled her eyes. "Forget it. Can we get back to work . . . " she saw the phantom straighten, "Cap̀n?"

He rolled his eyes, then turned his back to her. "Sing this note." He instructed, pinging out an A on his organ.

She tried.

He took a deep breath. "Please return to your quarters."

"To my quarters I go, then," she said sarcastically. "Cap̀n."

"And another thing, DO NOT leave this place. There aren't many children exploring the opera house. I'll be back later tonight with your dinner. You may want to work on your pitch." As he said this, he put a finger in his ear. Tzipporah went back to her quarters and flopped on the bed and pinched her eyes shut. "There's no place like home. There's no place like home." She said, kicking her heels together. She opened her eyes, finding herself still under a damp stone ceiling."Damn.

"Great, stuck under an opera house waiting until mister sun shine gets back. Forbidden to explore, with nothing to do except 'work on your pitch'" she repeated. She realized she was talking to herself, but she didn't care.

"I'm so bored! Curse you, adult ADD!" She sat up. "Hmm . . . "

Tzipporah got out of bed and walked over to the lake. She stuck her foot in. "Hmmm . . . " She looked around, then shrugged, dropped her dress and dove in. A split second later, she surfaced, sputtering, "Shit! This is cold! Now I know why he uses the boat." She shivered for a minute. "Oh well, it's something to do." Tzipporah started swimming laps. After a while she decided she should work on her breathing. Yeah . . . breath support. That's an excuse. She dove under water and glided around, examining the floor of the lake. She'd been under for a few seconds when she was suddenly pinned to the bottom by a long pole. It pushed off her back and came down again on her head. After the pole released her, she surfaced in a huff, panting vigorously. Then she spotted the phantom, and thought briefly about tipping the Gondola. Instead she followed it as quietly as possible.

The phantom docked the boat and stepped out. She sneezed. He spun around, then stared at her in a now very familiar look. "Tzipporah, get out of that water right now!" He ordered.

"Uhhh . . . "

"Yes?"

"Umm . . . " She laughed, "Funny story . . . "

"What?"

"See that?" she pointed to her dress that lay in a heap on the ground.

He looked down. "Oh God. You aren't . . . "

"I am."

He rubbed his eyes and turned around.

"I was uh . . . working on my breath support . . . " She said, as she got out of the water and wrapped the dress haphazardly around her. The Phantom started to turn around. "DON'T even think about it! ." She said, walking backwards into her room. She slammed the door. "Ok, now. You can look."

"This isn't going to be easy, is it?" he asked her as she waltzed over to him, now fully clothed.

"Nope!" she said, raising her arm triumphantly.

He frowned at her.

"You are an extremely unruly child." He said cooly.

"Thank you, and I would like to make it known that I am not a child. I am a 17-year-old woman and expect to be addressed as such." She protested.

"Ha, you a lady. You can hardly be considered a girl."

"Watch it! If I get any more of that you're going to need a full face mask." She said, making a fist.

"Let us begin." He ordered, glaring at her.

"Aye Cap̀n"

The Phantom then pressed a key on the organ and braced himself.

Surprisingly, she was close.

"Oh, good it gets better." He said. He was wrong.

After her lesson, the phantom merely put her food on the table, saying, "Here's your dinner." Then he got back in his Gondola and left. No goodbye, no see you tomorrow. He just left. Tzipporah glared at his back as she stuffed her mouth full of bread.

As the night, day, whatever it was . . . went on, Tzipporah became a little creeped out. She may have been a quite bold young woman, but she'd never actually been in a situation like this. Darkness, she found, packed a pretty freaky punch. As she lied in bed, she started trying to hum songs to calm her nerves. "Track down this murderer" was the first to pop into her head. It didn't exactly help. The candles started to burn out.

"Somewhere, over the rainbow..." Tzipporah sang quietly, then gave up. "What a load of shit." Then she got to thinking. _Wait. He said children can't walk around in the opera. But I'm not a child. I'm a seventeen - year - old woman._ She got out of bed, and dressed herself in a nightgown she found. "I hope this wasn't Christine's." She said.

Remembering what she read in the book, Tzipporah started poking around the Phantom's lair, eventually finding the tunnel she was _pretty _sure led to Christine's dressing room. Her only clue was the word, "Christine" etched into the stone above the entrance. She grabbed a candelabrum and started into the tunnel. Tzipporah got about three steps in before she shivered. "Shit it's cold in here," she said, and returned to the lair, grabbed a cape off of a nearby chair and turned back into the tunnel, following it as it wound up and around towards Christine's room.


	3. the black phantom

So sorry for the long delay. I finished most of this chapter on my own, which explains how short it is and how long it took me to write it. My cousin and I live far apart, so the joining of our two manic minds is not as frequent as we would like. a quick loving note to my dear reviewers - please check for typos before you post a review. i'm not so good at reading around them. anyways, sorry this intro is so dull compared to the last one, but i am desperately want for sleep and for whatever reason, that makes me feel quite eloquent. more manic episodes will follow in other chapters, i promise. right now though i am about four inches from my pillow and practically drooling on it already. sleepy time nigh-nights.

(_collapses_.)(_snores_.)

Meanwhile, Tzipporah was wandering through the Phantom's tunnel.

* * *

When she came to the door of the dressing room, she attempted to make a dramatic entrance by kicking it open. Sure, the door swung open, but as she waltzed through the opening she tripped over the unnoticed ridge. "Oh, snap!" She hissed as she picked herself up off the stone floor. Tzipporah would grow to regret her shout. Instead of Christine's room she was in none other than Carlotta's room. The diva of the opera sat straight up in her bed, mud mask and all. Carlotta let out a scream as though she was being murdered. 

"THE DEMON OF THE OPERA HAS RETURNED!"

Tzipporah lowered her voice to sound like the Phantom's and growled "Silence you toad!" and quickly drove back into the tunnel, slamming the door.

"Back, shoulder, face..OW!" she said as she tumbled down the stairs.

_Mental note: don't dive down the stairs. It ain't fun._

Tzipporah picked herself up off the stone floor, and pressed her ear against the door. She heard about 3 sets of feet come running to Carlotta's aide, then Carlotta panting out, "I saw the Phantom!"

Someone told her she must have been mistaken, the Phantom hadn't been seen in the Opera house since Christine left.

"I tell you I saw a Phantom! Only he was shorter... and black!"

Another voice sounded astonished, "A black Phantom..."

Tzipporah suddenly felt a firm hand on her shoulder. The Phantom whirled her around. "What do you think you are doing!" He whispered fiercely, taking her by the arm and practically dragging her down the tunnel. Once in back in the lair, he exploded.

"I told you never to leave the lair!" He yelled.

To the Phantom's surprise, Tzipporah remained perfectly calm in the sight of his anger. He was not used to that. "No, actually," Tzipporah began, "what you said was 'there aren't many children wandering around the opera house.'" She made quotations with her fingers and everything. "But the fact is, I'm not a child, and I wasn't wandering around the opera house. I was poking around in your tunnels."

The phantom glared at her ferociously, then looked at her attire. "Is that my cape?"

"Yeah. They're calling me the _Black Phantom!_ How awesome is that?"

"You stole my cape!"

"What? I was cold. Come on you've got like fifty of them laying everywhere."

"I do not."

"You're wearing one just like it right now."

"Don't patronize me, you little wretch!"

"I was going to put it back." Tzipporah said.

"Good. That's better."

"Oh no. I said I _was_ going to put it back. I changed my mind. This one is mine now. Besides, I've got a name for myself now. I've got to keep my image intact."

The Phantom suddenly became infuriated, needing to make her fear his anger. He grabbed her by the collar and got in her face. "If you value your life, you will NEVER leave the lair again!"

Tzipporah stared at him. "Excuse me. You're in my bubble."

The Phantom reluctantly released her, still pulsating with rage. Tzipporah spun around and marched confidently into what was now her bedroom, and shut the door quietly. The Phantom rubbed his neck, trying to calm himself down. As he stormed over to his Gondola, he frowned. "_The Black Phantom_?" He said to himself in disbelief, climbing into his boat and gliding away swiftly.


	4. something sounds different

ok. sooooo sooooo sorry for the ridiculously long delay. yes, the story does continue. i hope you didn't give up on me. and i'd be more creative with my intro here but it's after three in the morning and really all i can concentrate on is the fact that my ear itches. (scratches ear)... nevermind. now there's nothing.

meanwhile...

* * *

After so bravely facing her teacher's rage, Tzipporah flopped on her bed and began to shake with fear. She could handle being yelled at and punished, but she never could take threats very well at all. It had taken all of her self control to keep herself from running away in a panicked frenzy when the Phantom threatened her life. As she sat there trying to stifle her crying, she made a vow to NEVER show ANY kind of hesitation or weakness to her teacher. The thought seemed to calm her; she got up and tried to cover any signs that she had been upset. Tzipporah looked at herself in the mirror disgusted, she never looked pretty when she cried. This was yet another one of her pet peeves, "Why is it that when famous people in movies cry it always looks good! Why can't I pull off the pretty crying stunt?" she asked herself as she washed her face. Tzipporah then noticed the "haunted" music box sitting on the stone floor. She cautiously picked it up. Then she listened at her door to be sure that nobody was there, and slowly twisted the lever. The song Masquerade filled the silent room. She stared at it as it played. Thoughts poured into her head. 

"Great, I'm stuck here without my music and all I have to listen to is this. And there's no doubting this is going to get annoying after about five minutes. I could always go through my dear teacher's belongings. He must have at least one thing that would be good possible black mail. Or I could try and sneak out again later tonight, but then again if I get caught the Phantom will hang me from box 5 for all the world to see. Let's think of the pros and cons of this situation...Ah, screw it! I don't have the dang attention span for that stupid decision making crap." Tzipporah then sited the opera house program lying on her dresser. She opened it and smiled. There was a play going on tonight.

The Phantom returned after what seemed like twelve days. Really it was just a couple of hours, but Tzipporah had been starving and every moment without food in her stomach made her more and more impatient. She sprang from her bed as she heard the scrape of the Gondola on the stone floor, and went out as though to greet her teacher. Really she was just trying to find out if he had brought lunch with him.

"Tzipporah," he said with mock pleasantry, "How eagerly you greet me! Did you get lonely down here?" He emphasized the word lonely, trying to drive a point to an argument they hadn't had.

She wrinkled her brow at him briefly, obviously not understanding his tone. "What time is it?" She asked as her eyes danced around, trying to see behind him into the boat. He stood in her way for an unnecessary amount of time.

"It's about one in the afternoon," he replied, finally stepping aside so that Tzipporah could see into the Gondola. She let out a sigh at what she saw.

He had brought lunch, and a lot of it.

The Phantom saw the girl's eyes light up at the sight of that much food, and he couldn't help but smile. "I hope you're hungry." He said as he began getting things out of the boat and taking them to the table. Tzipporah helped him eagerly, her mouth salivating as the food she carried taunted her sense of smell. She began togrin subconsciously in anticipation of filling her deflated stomach.

Her teacher continued speaking as they passed each other on their way to bring more stuff to the table. "As soon as your lesson is over, we'll eat."

Tzipporah's smile fell over dead on her face. She was REALLY starting to hate her teacher. But she decided to keep an open mind. "Could I just have something to nibble before we start?" She asked innocently..

"No." She began to protest, but he cut her off as he continued, "Normally I'm not one to deny my students food, but we can't have anything coating your throat or tongue. You need all the help you can get."

"Thanks a lot." Tzipporah said, putting the last of the food onto the table and glaring at him.

"A pleasure, as always." He gave an evil bow and went to his piano. As soon as his back was turned, Tzipporah tried to pinch off a piece of bread to eat before they started.

"Touch that and I'll Punjab you." The phantom said, his back still turned.

Tzipporah growled. "Nazi." She said loudly.

The insult was lost on him, and after giving the piano a quizzical glance, he decided to ignore this last comment, and turned to his student. "Come and stand here," he said, pointing to a spot on the floor. As she walked over to him, he said, "we're starting with the basics." Once she was in the place he had indicated, he took her shoulders and rolled them backwards. "Shoulders back," he instructed, "try to elongate your spine." He demonstrated, and Tzipporah mimicked him, still a sour look on her face. "Feet shoulder width apart. Rib cage up," he said, demonstrating again. "Neck straight, head forward." She did all these things, feeling rather ridiculous, and still peeved at him for using food against her. "Now, take a breath from here," he said, putting a hand on her stomach. Tzipporah breathed in, now just bored with the whole thing. "Good." He said as he felt her diaphragm go out as she inhaled. He took his hand away and resumed mirroring her posture. "Look straight ahead," he told her, and she found her eyes fell directly in line with his adam's apple. He wasn't as tall as people had made him out to be. Then he sat down at the piano. "On Ah," he said, playing middle c and then a chord. "Keep your posture the same, and breathe from your diaphragm like you did before. Ready and sing."

Tzipporah followed all his instructions, rolling her eyes back in boredom as she opened her mouth and sang the note he had indicated. Immediately her eyes opened up in wide surprise as her voice reached her ears. She hit the note dead on. The Phantom straightened in surprise as well, and continued leading her up the scale. Granted, she sounded horrible, but at least she was hitting the notes. He did not tell her how high they were going, but when he stopped pushing her higher and began leading her back down the scale, he was feeling quite relieved and pleased with the lesson. She wasn't another Carlotta after all. Granted, she was no Christine, but at _least_ she _wasn't_ a _Carlotta_. They finished the scale and he stopped playing. Tzipporah stood there, waiting as he wrote something down on a scrap of parchment. "We're done here." He said.

Tzipporah let out a sigh and made a bee line to the table, immediately filling a plate with some of all of the food that was spread out on it. She sat down and took a bite, then noticed him getting up to leave. "Don't you eat?" She asked.

"I prefer to eat alone." He said flatly.

She blinked, slightly offended. Did she smell or something? His back was turned to her for the moment, so she checked under her arm. _Sweet Mother of God_ she mouthed to herself in disgusted surprise. Then she remembered the show that night. "You coming back at dinner?"

The Phantom shook his head. "We will continue your lessons in the morning. You should have enough there for two good meals. I have something to do tonight."

_So do I, _Tzipporah thought excitedly. "Ok." She shrugged at him and continued eating. He turned and stepped into the Gondola, pushing off and gliding away quietly.

Tzipporah spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the tunnels, trying to find one that would lead her to somewhere in the house so that she could watch the show that night. At one point, she came upon a ladder that led up to a trap door. She climbed it, and opened the trap door, finding herself directly under the stage.

"Perfect." She whispered to herself, excitement welling up in her. The space under the stage was deep enough for Tzipporah to sit upright in. As long as there were no exits or entrances into this area, Tzipporah would be perfectly hidden. True, she couldn't see much, but she would be able to hear everything quite well. She heard someone step across the stage above her head, and decide to see if she could be heard on the stage, just in case the dust made her sneeze during the performance.

She coughed. Nobody made any indication of hearing her. She coughed again, obnoxiously. The ballerinas didn't even pause in their conversations. "Awesome," Tzipporah thought, "I can give a running commentary and no one would notice."

Satisfied, she slipped back down the ladder and closed the trap door after her. "Now," she said, again talking to herself, "back to the lair to find some soap to kill off the green fainter sisters here."

Twenty minutes later...

"stupidpieceof...dirtylittle..." Tzipporah was getting frustrated as she rummaged through the cabinets, unsuccessful in finding anything that would do for soap. "God," she whispered, exasperated, slamming things around in the cabinet, "doesn't he BATHE?"

A few more cabinets were ransacked before Tzipporah suddenly stood upright and began speaking loudly.

"Oh! And Question, Zippo: even if there _was_ a bar of soap in this shitty little place here, WHERE would you find clean water to bathe in?" She sighed, rubbing her forehead with her fingers, and looked pitifully at the lake. "Oh. No. God," she began praying, "Please don't make me bathe in catacomb water. I swear to you if you show me soap and a tub in here somewhere, as soon as I'm out of high school I'll become a nun."

A wind suddenly blew Tzipporah's hair back, and a voice resounded through the lair. "But you're protestant." It pointed out.

"Well, I'll convert. How's that?" Tzipporah responded quickly, not even batting an eye.

"That's very sweet, but that won't be necessary." The voice answered kindly, "the bathroom is just through that curtained door right there."

"Thank you." Tzipporah started towards said door.

"Sure thing, baby." The voice responded. Another gust of wind blew through the room.

Tzipporah suddenly stopped, gasped, gaped, and permitted her pupils to stretch to their full capacity. "Did I just speak to God?" She asked, astonished. And then she stood there, mid-action, with her jaw skimming the floor for a while. "Wow..." she swallowed, noticing her mouth had gone dry, "He sounds different than I had immagined."

And with that, Tzipporah went into the bathroom.


End file.
